


Dust

by Yotsubadancesintherain5



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Death, F/M, Post-Canon, written for soriel week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:16:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8434810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yotsubadancesintherain5/pseuds/Yotsubadancesintherain5
Summary: Keeping your anger buried will surely poison you.





	

_Scars don’t heal_

The pain comes in surges, in short pangs, and in bursts of anger. Fire that is different from her magic, sickly burning, but it hurts more than anything her magic could accomplish.

Toriel isn’t a stranger to the word. She knew that even on the surface it would not disappear. It comes in many forms, young and old, monster and human. When Frisk frantically runs to her, and takes her down to the playground where they were playing. When Toriel sees the girl sitting in the sandbox, her face a mask of pain, her knee twisted at an unnatural angle. When Toriel soothes the girl and the girl says with a shuddering breath that she popped her knee. Even when the knee is treated there will be lingering aches.

Toriel’s goes deeper than patching up Frisk and Monster Kid with band-aids that have funny candy hearts on them. It ties back to that unspeakable night when she lost her children and it seemed as though her husband was transformed.

The pain dug deeper and deeper with every child that left the Ruins, and when she thought she would lose another. But she cannot burden Frisk with this, pile more sadness on their tiny shoulders. She can only hug them closer, with the same arms that hugged those that have long since passed on.

And sometimes she cannot keep her anger down, with every huff and grit of her teeth and glare at Asgore.

Sans helps her with that pain. He seems to carry a different kind of torment, though she knows he bottles it up like it can be tossed aside easily. He listens to her anger, how she knows deep down that Asgore regrets and wishes to mend but she cannot just cut off the strings that drag her down. How she feels she can move past it, but the anger flares up when she sees him. Sans helps her, suggests writing all of this down in a letter. Sometimes words are just enough.

Toriel goes through five sheets of paper, smeared with ink because of her tears falling on the pages, before she finishes what she feels is comprehensive and satisfactory. Frisk gives her a sticker sheet of famous bridges to put in the letter as well, a sort of peace offering. Toriel mails it on an early morning, the envelope a crisp white and a stamp that has a cute dog on it. When she closes the mailbox, the sickly fire within dies down just a little.

_but they fade._

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for this year's Soriel Week. It was a fun week.  
> I think this evolved more into my thoughts on Toriel than shipping. Oops.  
> Some elements I took from my life, such as the damaged knee and putting in stickers in a letter as a peace offering.


End file.
